Break up times
by LilyBartAndTheOthers
Summary: The truth is harsh, too harsh.


Do you think we are done? Sometimes when I look backwards, I feel like we have reached the end of the road, the dangerous curve where your hand will slowly slide off of mine and everything will belong to the past. In a couple of seconds I will lose my balance as you will go away and probably never come back. You stole my trust and damaged it; what have you done with all those promises, all those words you kept on saying to me? I can't believe you were lying but I know I could never forgive you for what you did. I tried to pretend we could overcome it but the least discussion brings back to life a lot of memories; the way you hurt me and how something got broken between the two of us. I hate those silences that tend to cover the truth; they're too artificial, so wrong. There was a time, not really far as a matter of fact, when a simple gaze from you was enough to warm me up and make me smile. Now I can't help shiver when someone calls your name or when you touch my lower back in a protective and lovingly attempt while you are the one who killed me once. They didn't say a word, they never insulted you. They kept on pretending just in order I feel happy but I know what they think about it, about you, about me. As much as I love you, I guess I need to leave. And don't be mad at me if I don't apologize, Leo. I can't get it.

She didn't even pack her things, just closed the door behind her and headed to Will's. She only remembers it was snowing and the wind was icy. It was mid-December and her marriage was over.

I came to this decision because I got lost into something I have no hold over, not even the sensation I could control it. The routine of our days weighs a lot on me. I can't say that I'm sad but something is missing. I don't know what exactly but it seems to be vital for me. I thought you were different and could understand what they mean to me. She pushed me into your arms because my Saturday nights were pitiful, almost inexistent while the world kept on turning. I love dreaming. This is the only getaway I can get lately to bear and face the fact I missed out everything. It's not your fault and if there's someone to blame in this story so it has to be me. I tried but failed. I always do, anyway. But the worst of all is that I took you into the whirl of my doubts, my poor existential crisis and now that you are stuck there with me, I'm just realizing how I need to leave. You're not supposed to be the right one whom I want to spend the rest of my life with, I hurt you too much for that. There has always been a distinction between who we were and the couple the others could see; a sort of perfect timing between reality and appearances. I tried to convince myself that it was okay and safe, maybe even normal but when I look around me and I pay attention to every person I meet, I know I was wrong, one more time. But it was too late and I had already subconsciously worked on our defeat. You can keep everything, any kind of detail that will be the symbol of our bright relationship. I'm leaving with the bitterness of your tears, Vince.

He walked outside and gasped under the sharpness of the situation. He would miss him a lot but he had no choice, he didn't love him. The rain started pouring when he turned on his right and left Brooklyn.

I am not ready. This is going too fast, it scares me. I make a lot of fun of it, I constantly overreact because it seems to be easier to laugh at my fears. I know it's not the right way and that very soon I will have no choice but face the seriousness of my life and try to deal with it but I need time and anyway, what if I keep on ignoring it? People don't understand, they think it's just the way I am; a little child who stopped growing up simply to see his whims granted. The truth is so much darker, so unexpected. They have no idea how I would like to be like them, to be a part of their society. Sometimes I feel how a strength pushes me to try. I open my mouth but remain quiet. I don't get it. I learned how to make a joke of it and pretend that frustration is the best medicine against sadness and sincerity. I like when the wind is warm and the sky is all blue. I walk through the streets of New York and feel light, happy. You brought that to me but I'm not made for human relationships. It has to be a fling, a ridiculous and childish fling. What if I lost you while I would have decided to trust my feelings? I can't afford a tragic destiny and that's why I always go away before I realize I fell in love. Are you surprised by the seriousness of my words? This is who I really am, though. But don't be worried, I'm good at acting so I will just say to you that it's over because I can't handle more than a two-week relationship. That's what Jack is used to saying.

He rushed out in a dramatic movement and frowned under the silent applause of the audience. He was sick of them but at least for once, he had the leading role until the lights turned off and the curtain fell.

There will be a tear for every single kiss you gave me. I won't look at you without thinking about the way you used to whisper my name softly or the silence of our fault shining upon our shoulders, feeding our guilt. I don't deny anything but I know it's over because our dreams aren't allowed to join reality. The stars vanished tonight, taking away our story; a secret affair that had to fail since the very beginning. I don't even know what I tried to find through your embraces, am I lacking of something? I don't want to forget the slight souvenir we used to share until I stopped pretending that there was no problem, that it was all fair and bright in the darkness of our lies. We made a fool of our lives just for a couple of nights, a zillion of despair and a sad note of truth; just an ounce. You probably need time, as I do, but I'm sure that one day you will smile back at me and forgive the non-sense of my decisions, the blurry movements of my heart and the violence of my acts when I leave you tonight. Don't say a word, don't take my hand in yours, I owe you my sleepless nights and the darkest days of my poor existence, as much as you made me feel alive and let me believe I could handle the worst of my feelings. And if you can't forgive me, don't be mad at me if I convince myself of the exact opposite. I need to feel relieved and save my marriage with Stanley, no matter what we lived or felt. This is a simple fact, the conclusions of our affair, the end of our story. I hatefully love you, Will.

She came back to her mansion and spent the whole night huddled up against herself, a glass of vodka stuck in her fragile hands, looking blankly at her life and how she could feel lonely sometimes. Too much perhaps.


End file.
